


what would you like?

by st_elsewhere



Category: Football RPF
Genre: 30 Day NSFW Challenge, 69 (Sex Position), Against the Wall - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Boring sex, Clothed Sex, Desk Sex, Doggy Style, Dom/sub, First Time, Floor Sex, Food Kink, M/M, Masturbation, Morning Sex, Naked Cuddling, Outdoor Sex, Public Sex, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Roleplay, Shower Sex, Shy, Skype, Sweet and Passionate, Trying new position, clothed getting off, ma own kink, naked kissing, whatever pleases you, won't be written in that order yo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-20 09:41:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9485453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_elsewhere/pseuds/st_elsewhere
Summary: (i'd like my money's worth).





	1. INDEX

**Author's Note:**

> [this tumblr](http://bluebellglowinginthedark.tumblr.com/post/31013467173/30-days-otp-challenge-nsfwversion) got all the kinks i like, i am so writing them all.
> 
> a few notes:
> 
> \- will be written in no particular order.
> 
> \- please comment. like ke$ha once said, ur comment is ma drug. seriously. short. long. analytical. gif heavy. jasfkjsfdaslfa. i love. please ~~gimme validation.~~
> 
> \- open for suggestion like 'number 11 is sinsert OTP/ imagine them going to akskfallasl'.  
>   
>   
> 

 

  1. naked cuddling
  2. naked kissing
  3. ~~first time~~  / GERLONSO (captain of hollywood!AU)
  4. masturbation
  5. ~~blowjob~~ / KARIM/ANTOINE
  6. getting off (clothed)
  7. dressed or half-naked sex
  8. skype sex
  9. against the wall
  10. doggy style
  11. dom/sub
  12. fingering
  13. rimming
  14. 69
  15. sweet and passionate
  16. ~~public sex~~  / DELEDIER
  17. floor sex
  18. lazy morning sex
  19. outdoor sex
  20. your (my) own kink
  21. shower sex
  22. desk sex
  23. trying new position
  24. shy
  25. toys
  26. boring sex
  27. rough sex
  28. role playing
  29. food
  30. whatever pleases you



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. DELEDIER / 16. public sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here ye are. the first installment. new to writing deledier lmao but imma try my best.
> 
>  
> 
> as usual: please enjoy, kudos, and short/analytical/gif-heavy/keyboard smashing comments. yas.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the boys wanted to try riding the eurostar train from brussels to london after their impromptu touring. the gaffer would never say no to what they want, really, but he did laugh at them because they didn’t consider the possibility that they weren’t able to book the whole coach. in the end, they are split up into four coaches. the only one who’s not complaining at all is danny because he gets to sit next to the gaffer for the whole two-hour trip in coach four, as if he’s not mauricio’s golden boy enough.

anyway.

dele and eric get into coach eleven, seated two rows before the sliding door that leads to the toilet—and winksy and harry are way up front. they have just got their tickets checked. they’ll arrive at london’s st. pancras station in one hour and forty six minutes.

“now what?” dele asks the french magazine in front of him.

“well,” eric searches the pocketful of magazine, menu, and gets what he’s looking for. “here. a manual. we can watch movies?”

“heh.” dele picks the manual from his own pocketful and finds nothing he would try to eat or watch. he clicks his tongue. “thanks, diet. very helpful.”

“what do you want?”

“let’s see if the others’ coaches are empty. maybe we can play cards with them.”

“you go then.”

“thanks, diet.”

if the grin is too fond, eric will take dele making fun of him for making that face anyway, so be it. he pinches dele’s chin and pulls his hand back before dele can swat if off unkindly. the kid had too much sugar for breakfast.

“no seriously, what do you want?”

“shut up.”

eric juts out his bottom lip and shrugs. dele was the one who had pitched the idea to take the eurostar along with kyle, so eric understands the _attitude_. fine.

“alright, delboy. i believe you can find something to entertain yourself with, yeah?” eric says, getting himself comfortable on his seat. “while i...” he hums, reading the manuals. “while i watch the classic mr. bean holiday.”

dele grabs eric’s hands before he can reach the headphone and eric has to raise one eyebrow at _that_. “can’t we have fun? we’re in eurostar!” dele babbles, mimicking eric’s pout in panic and whining a little. he moves to the edge of his seat, ready to leap.

“you can have fun with the lads though? go.”

“but i want you to come with!”

“then think of something else.”

it’s a challenge. dele hates it when eric does so because he once said it makes him feel like eric is condescending him; completely ignoring the fact that eric is older by two years. besides, it’s never eric’s intention to condescend dele whatsoever, usually he’s just asking dele to give him an alternative for a simple problem like they’re currently having.

no. scratch that. this is dele’s problem, not eric’s. eric took eurostar before.

dele is still holding eric’s hands and he swallows noisily before leaning closer to whisper to eric’s ear, “let’s shag.”

“ _what?_ ” eric snorts, frowning, a disbelieving laugh is bubbling on his throat—but dele is blushing. that can only mean he’s being serious. eric lets out a soft breath and whispers back, asking where? in the cramped toilet?

“come on.” dele licks his lips, and eric is still frowning. are they really going to— “i’ll go first,” now dele is just mouthing his words against eric’s ear. “count to fifty before you follow me. don’t knock, i’m not going to lock the door.” and then he’s quick on his feet, light on his steps, never looking back at eric who is slow to comprehend that they’re _really_ doing it. they’re going to shag in the cramped toilet of eurostar train.

 

 

 

sex with dele is incredible. he’s never a brat whenever eric gets his hands on him or his cock in him. he’s pliant. _sweet_ , even. he wants eric’s kisses and he keens on eric’s murmured praises and he says eric’s name like a prayer  nobody else ever did before.

the thing is, eric has only had dele in his bed, neverwhere else, and all of this is new; eric is not sure he’s gonna like it.

the door is unlocked. other passengers aren’t paying them any attention, too busy with short but artsy, european movies and their afternoon tea. the toilet is surprisingly not cramped. it’s very sleek and modern, with floor to ceiling mirror covering the door inside.

another surprise? dele not getting straight to business once eric pulls the latch. no. he’s just blushing. which is endearing. but kinda confusing?

“hey.” eric steps forward to crowd dele to the sink, pressing a close-mouthed kiss to dele’s lips. “alright? this is what you want?” he asks, resting his palms on dele’s hips.

dele nods, swallows, and nuzzles eric’s throat.

“how do you want me?” eric wraps his arms around dele’s shoulders, caressing his head and sneaking one hand under the kenzo t-shirt he’s wearing. his smooth skin feels cold to the touch, so eric makes a circular motion to warm him up a bit.

dele sighs. he’s clutching at the hem of eric’s plain black jumper.

“can we face the mirror?” his voice is small, but not unsure. this is dele asking for sex in an environment neither of them are familiar with. eric is glad that dele, at least, feels the same mix of worry and excitement, too.

eric opens his mouth to suck on the juncture of dele’s neck and shoulder, murmuring, “sure we can.”

in that moment, dele goes slack in eric’s arms.

“what else, dele?”

“i want your fingers.”

“where do you want them?”

“in—in me.”

“of course,” eric moves his hands to dele’s stomach, then up up to rub on dele’s hardening nipples. “do you want my cock?”

there’s a gasp, a jerk of dele’s hips to tell eric that he’s half-hard, and, “i do. _please_.”

eric is minding the time. people would also want to use the toilet. he thanks the lulling sound of a train as he unbuckles dele’s belt because dele is moaning out loud. like he can’t help it. like he always does whenever eric is near his arousal.

eric pulls dele’s designer jeans and underwear down to his knees. the head of dele’s cock is glistening with precome, and eric uses his thumb and forefinger to circle the head, pumping out some more.

“hold your t-shirt,” eric instructs as he fondles with dele’s heavy sacks. “good. higher. i want your nipples on display.”

if they were in a different setting, eric would have make one hell of a banter of how agreeable dele is right now.

but they’re in a sleek but still relatively small toilet of a bullet train, and they don’t have time. he maneuvers them so dele is facing the mirror slash the door, and he pushes three of his fingers that were fondling dele’s sacks into dele’s mouth.

“make them wet.” eric knows that dele doesn’t need another instruction, but then again dele is not in a position to protest about his unconscious condescending—not with how he licks around eric’s fingers sloppily, slobbering all over his own chin and sucking on eric’s fingers like he would a lollipop. greedy. spoiled. eric’s cock throbs as dele’s hot tongue swirls against the pads of his fingers, and he squeezes his hand on dele’s hard cock before he pulls his fingers out of dele’s mouth.

“ _hnngh_.” dele moans, tilting his ass up for invitation.

eric pushes two fingers inside. it’s tight, it always is, but dele is being such a good boy today because he’s already pushing back even before eric is in past his second knuckles. eric spreads his fingers, scissoring them, rotating his wrist to get in deeper. he crooks up his middle finger and hits dele’s prostrate spot on.

“oh!” dele’s whole body jerks. “ _ah!_ eric, _eric_ —get in me. now. please.”

“yeah.” eric’s brain is short-circuiting as he gracelessly unbuttons his jeans. his underwear is soaked with his precome and he adds more spit to his palm to stroke his cock. dele is whining, face and neck and chest flushing, and when their eyes meet on the mirror, they can’t help the matching giggles because they’re _really_ doing it.

dele’s eyes are liquid black when eric can focus again. he’s telling eric to get on with it through their wanton reflections.

“tell me if i’m hurting you, yeah?” eric uses his left hand to guide his cock into dele’s awaiting hole, and dele nods, hiding his face on his straining right bicep.

eric pushes in. when he’s sliding in halfway, he curses, “oh, fuck! _fuck_ , _fuck_ , love this so much dele.” and once he’s in to the hilt, seated deep inside his hips are flushed with dele’s ass, it’s all instinct taking over his body.

dele is quite silent except for his tiny moans and grunts; his eyes never leaving the mirror and eric doesn’t have the proper capacity to deduce whether dele is watching himself getting fucked or he’s watching eric trying his best to please him. eric does try his best to please dele, occasionally succeeded in keeping eye contact as he thruststhruststhrusts, but mostly too preoccupied with his teeth on the same spot that he sucked earlier, and sometimes he gets distracted with dele’s nipples; they’re erect and just so cute.

“close?” eric asks as he digs his nails onto the twin cheeks of dele’s ass, a leverage to push deep, deep, deeper. his rhythm has sped up now that dele’s hole is loosening, but he hasn’t managed to hit dele’s prostrate just yet.

dele sighs. “no.”

eric presses a kiss to the back of dele’s left ear and says, “touch yourself, i’m close.”

“yeah.” dele does just as he’s told, and he’s tightening his inner muscle as he strokes his cock. his moaning gets progressively louder and more desperate with each twist of his wrist.

“p-please kiss me.”

“c’mere—”

“hi? excuse me? will you finish anytime soon?”

that’s a lady asking with urgency and eric can _feel_ his heart palpitating in every inch of his body. dele whimpers, then clamping his mouth shut with his hand. his t-shirt falls to cover his upper body (and nipples), his body goes tense, and eric’s brain is working again.

he shushes dele as he flings his arm to the direction of the toilet flush, waits for the flush to dissolve, and his embarrassment is not fake as he apologizes, “sorry, i ate something bad this morning. so sorry, ma’am.”

the lady sounds pitiful when she responds with an it’s okay, sorry, carry on—and eric is coming, weakly, in just a couple of hurried thrusts after that.

he stays half-hard and he waits for dele to come before pulling out.

“good?” eric grins as he helps dele cleaning everything and if anyone takes so much a glance at the younger, they will understand he’s just get _fucked_ and they will want to know who had fucked him. he pulls dele’s tight jeans and underwear up; zipping it, buttoning it, buckling it up neatly.

instead of a thank you, dele kisses him. and eric gets dizzy because dele doesn’t want to let go of him.

“hey, hey,” he has to, though. time is ticking. eric bites dele’s chin, fondly, before squeezing dele’s cheeks as a final touch. “reckon we should continue once we’re back in london?”

dele pulls at eric’s ears as petty retaliation. “absolutely. yours?”

“mine.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. GERLONSO / 3. first time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> * SCREAMING * truly honestly inspired by [captain of hollywood!AU.](http://wrotefootballficiregretnothing.tumblr.com/post/148561033801/your-blog-captain-of-hollywood-that-blog-inspires) watch the masterpiece. find the blog. read this pr0n and we shall discuss all about it.  
> dedicated to the masters behind the piece [@wrotefootballficregretnothing](http://wrotefootballficiregretnothing.tumblr.com) and [ @booperesque](http://booperesque.tumblr.com).  
>   
>   
> have a good night *tried to wink*  
> 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

first, they were enjoying endless room service courtesy of xabi’s equally endless limit of credit card and stevie loves quality booze when he’s hanging out with his mates—though accidentally befriending hollywood star xabier alonso is a league of its own, just wait until carra hears about him making the two times academy award winner _laughs_ —

and then, out of nowhere—just like how getting stuck in a five-star hotel elevator played the big start of their friendship, stevie gets a lapful of grown man; complete with a set of neatly trimmed ginger beard, soulful whisky-colored eyes, and a solid thirty something year old body who often frequents the gym.

for this part, stevie is not drunk enough.

but then again, neither is xabi. the man doesn’t even _drink_.

“uh...? xabi?” stevie finds his voice after a half-hearted staring contest with the actor who won academy award last year for his portrayal as a younger brother whose older brother died and he had to go back to his hometown to mend everything he didn’t even know was broken.

(obviously, stevie doesn’t have a chance to understand what’s going on. xabi is a good actor and he’s not even _drunk_.)

“stevie,”—and it’s not fair, really, not with how stevie’s ordinary name sounds so _cute_ and different whenever xabi voices it out with _that_ accent, not the fake american one he incorporates for his roles in movies—“if i did, would you mind?”

stevie blinks.

“what are you gonna do?”

xabi doesn’t answer with words. his hands are heavy on top of stevie’s shoulders, and stevie makes a tiny, confused noise when xabi tilts his head, leaning down, closer now, and when their lips touch, it’s all just instinct, really.

xabi’s lips are well moisturized and his chapstick tastes like cocoa butter when stevie opens his mouth wider to swipe his tongue on xabi’s bottom lip. his beard scratches stevie’s chin and jaw, and although the weight doesn’t bother stevie that much, still stevie can’t breathe properly. or maybe that’s because he’s enjoying this? making out with another man, that is. xabi smells so good, expensive, masculine, yet _soft_ , like freshly laundered cotton—and his ass fit perfectly for stevie’s hands; his hips are strong, not curvy—and they’re of matching strength, which is new, probably a little bit scary, because with women stevie can calculate his power during any carnal activities. he’s in autopilot mode with women’s bodies and bones and desires.

but with another man’s?

stevie shudders when xabi uses his thumbs to stroke that twin spot behind his ears that always make him weaker, ready to surrender.

xabi’s eyes have turned liquid black and he’s gone all red high on his cheeks and throat, his chest heaving. stevie still doesn’t understand.

“you’re leaving tomorrow, correct?” xabi asks, voice barely audible.

“y-yeah?”

“let me have this. just this once.”

and even before stevie can ask what does xabi mean with such _sad_ sentiment, xabi is already slithering down the leather couch, mapping stevie’s designer denim clad thighs and popping open the button, pulling down the zipper and stevie’s hugo boss black briefs to swallow the head of stevie’s half-hard cock with practical ease.

stevie shouts when xabi starts bobbing his head in order to get his cock deeper.

they’ve been friends exactly four days. liverpool is currently having a USA tour and landed in LA for about a week to cool off; this is their last night. xabi doesn’t watch football but he knows liverpool and he admitted, during the devastating fifty minutes getting stuck in an elevator with stevie, that he’s heard of the phenomenal living legend steven ‘stevie’ gerrard who comes back to liverpool as assistant manager.

stevie enjoys movies, but he doesn’t follow gossip sites that have been speculating about one particular xabier alonso’s sexual orientation at all. he’s not the most perceptive lad, either, he’s so unassuming that if xabi to confess he fell in love with stevie the moment stevie said hi to him—in that goddamn elevator—with such open admiration and genuine happiness that he’s meeting a hollywood actor on vacation in LA, not to mention how stevie had consoled him in that goddamn elevator because obviously a top actor has his own demon in form of severe claustrophobia—stevie would have _doubts_. lots of it.

xabi has creases on his forehead. from up above, stevie is having a racing thought because who would have known that a man could look this erotic, this sexy, while giving a blowjob? not stevie. he’s never been with a man before. oh, god. xabi _sucks cock_ like he does it for a living. _fuck_. he’s so _good_. 

stevie adjusts his position, pulling down his jeans lower until they’re pooling on his ankles for better movement. xabi is humming as he follows stevie’s lead, and he’s slurping when he has to pull his mouth out to speak,

“can i be selfish, stevie?” he looks up, and his liquid black eyes are glinting underneath the suite’s fluorescent lights. “can i ask you to fuck me?”

“jesus.” stevie mutters the word like it’s a curse, and he _can’t think_. not with his cock is out on display and a magnetic man is on his _knees_ for him, asking such lewd question. “ _yes_. fuck, xabi. you’re killing me.”

“hold on.” xabi takes a deep breath before he gets up to get rid of his slim fit ankle pants, no underwear, revealing his hard, cut cock that glistens with precome. stevie catches a hold on xabi’s waist as he staggers to get back on top of stevie’s lap, and this time stevie is not surprised that he’s the first to initiate a kiss.

xabi is wearing a plain white shirt which sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and stevie decides to unbutton everything but leaving it hanging on xabi’s upper body; a habit that he always does to women he’s sleeping with. xabi, in turn, takes off stevie’s prada jumper and tossing it on the floor. he bites the underside of stevie’s left jaw and stevie squeezes the twin globes of xabi’s plump ass.

his cock is painfully hard now.

“let me—” xabi spits to his right hand before he takes their cocks and strokes them with a help of his thrusting hips. the leather couch is making its well known _slickslickslick_ sounds as two heavy bodies writhe, and stevie can only continue thrusting his own hips as xabi reaches out behind himself to put two wet fingers into his hole. stevie can only watch in awe as xabi bites his bottom lip in concentration as he fingers himself open with minimal lubrication.

to take stevie’s cock.

oh, _fuck_.

fuck.

“xabi?” stevie touches xabi’s chest where his heart lies, and the palpitating beats are making him _excited_. “you okay?” he asks, rubbing the perky nipple, causing xabi to moan out loud.

“it is you who kill me, stevie,” xabi’s smile is shy and beautiful and he leans down again to press a quick kiss to stevie’s grinning mouth. “i’m ready.”

women are usually so, so wet. some are tight. sometimes stevie can slide in easily like a hot knife slicing through butter. xabi? xabi is _tight_. tighter than ever before. hotter, too. the muscles are constricting stevie’s cock and it’s the best feeling in the whole world, really. _ungh._

stevie is trying to regulate his breathing even after xabi has him whole. his cock is snug inside of xabi but he doesn’t think that he will be able to last long. he tries to pull out but only manages an inch or so before he spurts out more and more precome.

“ _stevie_ , nnngh—” xabi gasps as he feels stevie’s cock spurting out another load of precome, and he begins to roll his hips as he’s sitting there. his movements are like fluid, indicating that this is not his first time taking cock and riding it however he pleases. stevie is feeling too high to care; he never knew being deep in another man’s ass would be this _good._

xabi is quiet if compared to stevie’s helpless grunts and occasional gasping. his moaning is a constant breathy _ah, ah, ah,_ but he’s not noisy or whiny. when he picks up his pace, stevie has to shout again and sits up straighter to keep up with the wild rhythm or else he’s going to come embarrassingly fast.

“c’mon, stevie, move with me...” xabi presses his thumb to stevie’s adam’s apple as an anchor for him to maintain his pace. it _hurts_ but it makes stevie tingle in all the right places.

nah. scratch that. it makes stevie thrusting back, meeting xabi’s pace halfway while digging his blunt nails to xabi’s ass, forcing them closer.

“ _ah, ah, ah_ , yes, just like that—” and xabi is babbling. he’s closing his eyes tight, beads of sweat decorating his face, neck, torso, and thighs, and stevie is coming when the tip of his cock hits something inside of xabi that’s driving xabi to clench around his cock while gasping stevie’s name like a prayer and it’s too much.

the sensation is totally different. with women, stevie reaches completion but he never feels the extra force as if he’s about to combust to million pieces his head is ringing and his vision is darkening. coming deep in xabi, stevie’s head is ringing and his vision is darkening with technicolor dots when he’s finally back to his senses. his muscles are tensed and his cock is going soft in xabi, bursting with milky, diluted semen that’s flowing out of xabi’s ass and back to his emptied balls.

when stevie blinks again, xabi is detaching himself from his lap, flopping on his back on the wide space of the leather couch and rubbing his nipple with one hand while the other is stroking his cock with lightning speed. he’s so wanton like this; carelessly spreading his mile-long legs that’s obvious with milky traces of getting fucked in the ass. stevie’s mouth is dry.

“hey,” he croaks out, feeling sheepish. “need a hand?”

when stevie sees xabi’s melancholic smile he thinks _i’m glad we did it_ and his heart skips a beat.

“will you finger me? hit the spot again, stevie.”

“ah, yeah. that one?” stevie asks, kicking off his jeans and briefs so he’s fully naked now. “two alright?” he hovers above xabi to get to the position and thinks he wouldn’t mind doing it again in this position. xabi lying on a black leather couch can be translated as a sexual awakening that stevie never knew he would be capable to think about.

“give me.”

it’s still so warm inside. and so wet. xabi doesn’t take long to push his ass back to get stevie’s fingers deeper and stevie rotates his wrist. he hits the spot again with the tip of his middle finger and xabi strains his neck, sighing, stroking his cock with both of his hands now, hooking his knee on the back of the leather couch _and_ stevie’s waist.

xabi comes with a hushed _oh!_ and a stutter of his used body.

(stevie stays the night and they fuck again with xabi on his hands and knees on his plush king sized bed and stevie wakes up just in time to program his UK number and email on xabi’s phone before he has to rush back to his room, presenting himself as if he didn’t just have the best sex of his life with a top hollywood star.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. KARIM/ANTOINE / 5. blowjob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a total self-indulgent because back in 2014 this ship was my jam.  
> (damn ye sex scandal lmao).  
> forever hoping benzema will be called for les bleus squad again sometime soon so the ultimate benzemann ship can reunite.
> 
>  
> 
> anyway. not explicit. kinda melancholic with heavy hints of D/s. how awful.  
>   
>   
> 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“it’s been a while.”

antoine can’t exactly meet karim’s gentle, gentle eyes. it really is been a while and antoine had foolishly thought that he’s over it; over the giddy, childish feeling of befriending an equally introverted senior who probably didn’t even know how to handle a junior like antoine. because antoine had clung to him like a moth to the flame, except karim must be the least burning kind he just accepted antoine to his arms with his gentle, gentle smile and solid body which had sparked electricity and selfishness on antoine’s part as he wanted (wants) moremore _more_.

but then shit happened and antoine was the hero the public adored during last year’s euro. a spotlight he didn’t dare to think would shine upon him because it was supposed to be karim’s.

now they’re here. together again.

the whole team didn’t hold a special welcoming party for karim, just dousing him with fruit smoothies and any nearest food available. antoine is seen on each teammate’s instagram live story who films the whole shenanigan smiling wildly, weirdly calm and collected and is the first one to offer napkins for karim to clean up. it’s quite a loud night.

“thanks,” karim says. his navy blue les bleus polo is darker on some spots. he looks up to antoine who’s still holding a bunch of napkins and they exchange a smile.

“look at that. i have missed you, _habibi_.”

ah.

did antoine tell you that karim is capable of being cruel, despite how he might be the least burning kind of flame?

when antoine fails to reply, too overwhelmed with joy and nostalgia, karim chooses that moment to strike twice. “will you come?” and then he gets up, not uttering any single word while antoine is left five steps behind, lagging on comprehension whether he should follow or not.

 

 

 

back then, antoine never had a chance to room with karim. he wasn’t that wishful. being able to sit next to karim in the bus or in the plane or being stretching buddies and gracing karim’s instagram and twitter with his goofy face were more than enough. karim has always roomed with raphael.

raphael is still with the team, enjoying themselves by the pool.

the room is neat. the view is great. karim is in the bathroom, changing, and by the sound of splashing water, getting rid of sticky smoothies all over himself. when he comes back to the room where antoine is busy standing on the balcony, looking out to the view of reykjavik, he’s shirtless but with a pair of grey sweatpants on.

“come here.” karim sits on one single bed, spreads his legs, and pats his left knee.

antoine goes.

he keeps his hands on his lap as he settles on karim’s sturdy thigh. karim sneaks an arm to his waist, holding him closer, and his naked upper body feels hot against antoine’s, porcelain smooth. when karim uses his thumb to tilt antoine’s chin, antoine can’t help but to close his eyes.

“i’m going to kiss you.” karim runs his knuckles along antoine’s jawline, back and forth, and repeat, until all blood goes south. “is that alright?”

antoine nods, and breathes through his mouth.

 

 

 

(he did this once with carlos, a long time ago. there were a lot of giggling and fumbling back then, and carlos had tried his best to warn him but it wasn’t like antoine mind. karim? his is huge. cut. and he’s still so gentle even when he’s obviously close; he never pulls at antoine’s golden locks as his hips stutter. it’s been a while and antoine chokes a few times but karim’s gentle crooning helps. a lot. karim comes on antoine’s face and kisses it clean as he strokes antoine’s cock with his right hand—his left is cushioning antoine’s head as they lie on the bed.

 

 

 

it’s more than enough.)

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol


End file.
